


Looking-Glass

by valderys



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sga_flashfic, Crack, Fairy Tales, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-18
Updated: 2010-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/pseuds/valderys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if everything you learned really was learned from SGA?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking-Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on a concept from Neal Stephenson's 'The Diamond Age', and, with permission, owing a lot to Communicator's fic 'The Young Ladies Home Companion'. Written for the Sga_flashfic's Fairytale challenge in 2008.

> _"Not you!" Tweedledee retored contemptuously. "You'd be nowhere. Why you're only a sort of thing in his dream!" _
> 
> _"If that there King was to wake," added Tweedledum, "you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"_
> 
> \- Lewis Carroll, Alice Through the Looking-Glass

 

Alise thought she was five when the Young Person's Golden Treasury was first bought for her. She remembered that specifically because what she'd actually wanted was a cowboy outfit, like her brother had been bought for his birthday the previous month, and she remembered that she had been so insanely envious of the real leather fringing, and the working guns with their real cocking action, laser sights and VR sensorama, that the Young Person's Golden Treasury had been a huge disappointment. There might even have been a tantrum, or maybe two.

Later, after tears had been mopped up, and a cowgirl outfit bought, and she had outshot her brother in numerous showdowns, sometimes wearing the white hat, sometimes wearing the black, only then did she turn to the unwanted gift. The living nano-putty had felt clammy and unpleasant when she had accessed the help system and realised that to be fully immersive she had to expose her skin to the nanite suspension. She'd done it, but that had put her off for another few months.

It was only a long time later, after the funerals, after the house was sold to cover the debts, and all her toys, including the cowgirl get-up, were long gone, that Alise thought to look at the Treasury again. It had been spared because it was now keyed to her own genetic code, and while it was certainly possible to re-boot it from scratch, and scrub away all those traces of her, apparently the process wasn't always one hundred percent successful, and that meant the re-sale value was virtually nil.

Alise found she was grateful. She loved that something of her old life remained, that it was impossible for all traces of her previous self to be erased. It was comfort, of a sort.

When the school day was done – a new school too, of course, the local one, all concrete and graffiti and big kids, no more long rides out to the country in father's shiny estate hopper – Alise had something to hurry home to. Not loving arms _exactly_, but surely the next best thing?

After all, it wasn't precisely quiet inside the VR either, but it was better than the state orphanage, where someone was always either screaming, or crying, or fighting. It made Alise's head ache. She carefully didn't think past that, didn't think of the next day, or the next, or the next, all alike, all filled with noise and despair, and the awfulness of knowing that no-one was ever going to come and take her away from any of this, not ever again.

After all that, what did a few explosions or deaths or enemies matter, in the grand scheme of things? Her sensorium was her home. The only home she was ever going to know again.

***

&gt;New session or restart at point of exit?  
&gt;Last log-in twelve hours fifty three minutes ago

Alise stared at the flashing cursor, aware that she'd set the timer, so they wouldn't miss her at light's out, and also the alarm to tell her if anything changed in her immediate surroundings, for example, a person walking in on her, although she doubted it was likely – since she was hidden at the very back of the linen closet, behind a considerable stack of towels.

There was a lock on the door, but a crude one. She'd got Radek to show her how to pick a simple lock, and it had only taken a little practice before she got it right. Alise hoped that she'd made Radek proud of her, she could hear his beautiful lilting accent floating all around her as she remembered, as he had explained where he had learned such skills, what it was like growing up in Soviet controlled Czechoslovakia, how you had to be careful all the time, watch all the time, and trust rarely. How you had to help yourself, because no-one else would. Some of the words were strange to her, but the Help System had reference knowledge when she needed it, and she remembered it, she remembered all of it, and then she used what she had learnt.

But that was ages ago, when she was just a little girl. She was so much more grown up now. She still talked to Radek, of course, when she wanted to get all down and dirty in the guts of a jumper, or mess about with the pigeons she'd programmed in specially for him, but she didn't feel like doing that today.

She checked the sensorium's inner clock and her guts shivered. The AI was extraordinary, the environment rich beyond anything she could imagine, but it still had a few peculiarities that were predictable, and massive disasters seemed to be one of them. Regularly, Atlantis had to face the Wraith, or giant storms, or death by bug, or nano-plagues. They were about due for another one, she reckoned. Her guts clenched again, but she took a deep breath and reached out her virtual hand for the flashing cursor. She couldn't leave them to it, push the internal clock forward, read the reports instead. No, they were her people, as much as they were Dr Weir's or Colonel Sheppard's. She'd learnt that too – you never leave a man behind.

Perhaps she'd stick with Major Lorne for today – she didn't want to get in Colonel Sheppard's way in the event of an emergency, but bothering Lorne should be ok. Sometimes he let her practice her target shooting, if it was quiet, and if he'd finished the Colonel's paperwork. Or if he was off duty, he'd let her have a go at painting, and correct her shading, or point out where her perspective was off. She liked that. It was peaceful. She took a deep breath, and mentally pushed the virtual button.

&gt;Environment preparing for insertion  
&gt;Insertion imminent

***

It was a funny thing, the Young Person's Golden Treasury. When Alise had first tried it out, the stories were crude and brightly coloured, and involved floppy bunnies and cute kitties. Or penguins, the AI seemed really fond of penguins. There was even a sweet moral tale about a golden sunflower and a blue tulip – she wasn't sure what to make of that one at all. In fact, Alise grew quickly very bored. But if it hadn't been for that boredom, she would never have gone poking about in the Terms and Conditions, or discovered the sales pitches with their brightly coloured adverts. She would never have realised that the basic sensorium was just that, basic. There were all sorts of add-ons, with many different worlds, and characters, but, of course, she didn't have any of them. It was a revelation.

The orphanage was an appalling soulless place of misery but it had a thriving black market. Someone always knew someone, who knew someone, who had a brother, who'd get you anything for a price. Usually it was nic-stix, or comics, or bottles of beer, but gaming crystals weren't unheard of. Gaming crystals for a system as sophisticated and expensive as the Young Person's Golden Treasury was harder, but not impossible.

She spent every penny she'd secreted away, and promised more chores than she had time in the day to do. She didn't sleep a proper night through for weeks. It was still worth it.

Dr Weir had shaken her head when Alise described the transaction. She'd sat her down and tried to explain the basics of negotiation. Never let them see how much you want something. Always keep them guessing. Offer a price way below what the seller would be expecting or hoping for, and then build it up slowly to an acceptable level for both of you. Everyone should walk away from the table feeling like they'd won. Alise had gulped and nodded, and learned. She pointed out that she hadn't had Atlantis then, that she'd do better. Dr Weir had smiled and suggested that she might want to bargain for a game more suitable to her own age group next time, and Alise had agreed.

She didn't mention that she didn't want another game. Atlantis was her home now.

***

&gt;New session or restart at point of exit?  
&gt;Last log-in ten hours seventeen minutes ago

"No, no, no! Am I to be surrounded by incompetent morons every day, who only just manage to save themselves and the city from being blown up regularly by the installation of child proof locks, in order to discover that the _child-proof locks_ don't work, and I get to be bothered by children off duty as well?"

Alise tipped her head to one side and considered. Dr McKay was always like this, but his bark was worse than his bite. She'd noticed that his bad attitude kept people from bothering him though. She wasn't sure she was supposed to have noticed that however, so instead she wordlessly proffered the coffee and muffin. Dr McKay glared at them both suspiciously before opening his mouth.

"Black. Only blueberry. No citrus. And you promised," she said, quickly.

He shut it again with a snap and glared, his chin going up, and then down, like a demented seesaw. Alise carefully didn't smile.

"She's got you there, McKay, you got to admit it," said an amused drawling voice from behind her. "You did promise."

Alise did her damnedest, oops, she meant best, not to jump. Colonel Sheppard was like some kind of prowling animal, a lynx, or a... a bat, or something. She never saw him coming.

"But she caught me in a weak moment, when I was vulnerable, you can't actually expect me to..." Dr McKay was beginning to sputter. Alise knew she was allowed to smile a bit then.

"I told you what you should buy Madison for her birthday, because _you_ asked _me_. Because _you_ were desperate. You were going to buy her a year's subscription to Scientific American. And in return you promised to help me with my homework," said Alise, ticking the points off on her fingers.

"You did, McKay," echoed Colonel Sheppard, and Alise didn't need to turn round to see his smile.

There was a tiny pause, and Alise just knew it was going to be filled with lots and lots of words, in just a second, so she got in fast.

"I got the highest marks in the class last week on my maths test. Just like you said I would."

She shut up then, and watched him. He was wavering, she could tell.

"Then Jimmy Perez said that I must have cheated, 'cos I couldn't know all that stuff without cheating, and Mr Hill, the teacher, agreed, and made me take another one, all by myself. I said, how could I have cheated, when I got the highest mark – who exactly did I copy from? Mr Hill didn't like that."

"I'm sure he didn't," said Dr McKay, and it was weird, because his voice went all soft and vulnerable, and Alise found she didn't want to think about that. A hand was squeezing her shoulder, but Alise didn't turn to look at the Colonel. There was an odd pricking sensation in her eyes, and she ignored that too.

"Well, great minds are always envied by smaller ones," said Dr McKay, briskly, "It's the way the world works, so it's probably just as well you learn that early. Fighting for tenure's even worse."

He picked up her homework book, and flipped through it distastefully, before looking up, his eyes back to their snapping, brilliant best.

"Ok, let's do this. Did I ever tell you about the time I built a nuclear bomb in grade six..."

&gt;Environment preparing for withdrawal  
&gt;Insertion terminated

***

The crystal, when it finally came, was in a scratched and battered plastic carry case only slightly bigger than a nic-stix box. The label had been ripped off and the corner looked like it had actually been melted a little. 'Shop-worn' was the description. Alise thought it looked closer to 'battle-worn' but she wasn't about to argue. The other problem was that she had no clue what the game was about – the someone's brother hadn't known. She crossed her fingers and hoped it was better than dancing on ice with polar bears.

The crystal was clear and shiny and approximately the size of two cred-sticks laid side by side. It inserted into an empty slot, looking a little forlorn. There was easily room for a dozen such crystals to be plugged into the Young Person's Golden Treasury, but Alise only had one. Then she booted up the access port, and upped the gain on the sensorium to fully immersive.

There was a tune at first, a sweeping melody, and yet an understated one; she wasn't sure she could hum it easily. Then there was a logo, a stylised 'A', with a circle over it, in yellow, next to another logo, of a snarling lion ,and that was followed by a voiceover.

"From the makers of Stargate SG1, comes a new sister universe, Stargate Atlantis. Travel through the stargate into a new galaxy, join intrepid explorers who face the unknown wonders and terrors of countless new worlds, never knowing if they can ever return home. There are heroic soldiers, fearless leaders, and brave scientists, all trying to keep the expedition alive, while solving the many mysteries of the Pegasus galaxy. Will you join them today? (PG-13, Adult available)"

Alise, of course, mentally pressed the 'Yes' button, and her first taste of the fully immersive mode made her scream. Her avatar – no, she herself – was made to take that final step through a flickering wall of blue water suspended in an ornate ring, and then her body was torn to pieces, and her mind felt like it was everywhere and nowhere, all at once, and she couldn't help but scream. She felt like such a baby. Luckily, no-one else could hear her, what with her being unconstituted atoms at the time, but she knew.

And then she was stepping forward, into a huge vaulting room, that was gloomy and dark, and smelled of dust, and long dead things. She was surrounded by lots of adults, all dressed in uniforms with coloured flashes, and she watched, her mouth dry with fear, as a tall man with spiky dark hair walked up the steps and lit up her bright beautiful new home.

***

&gt;New session or restart at point of exit?  
&gt;Last log-in nine hours ten minutes ago

The mess hall. Alise went to sit in the corner behind the potted palms and drink her hot chocolate in peace. Of course, it wasn't really hot chocolate, it was that reasonably good fake that Dr McKay had come back shouting about from P3X-783, and it was made from pods, not beans, but the principal was the same. And even if it did taste bad, then it was _still_ better than the swill the orphanage canteen doled out.

Then she stopped, and her hand trembled a bit, because of the shock of it, her mind supplied, nothing else, and she stared. Ronon Dex was behind her favourite potted palm. Ronon Dex didn't bother her, and she didn't bother him. That was the way things were.

When Mr Dex had come to stay with them on Atlantis, Alise had been unsure. She'd even debated deleting over the saved game, just by a few days, and trying to change the programming, trying to alter the outcome of the mission. But then she'd considered poor Lieutenant Ford, and how sad Colonel Sheppard had been that he couldn't save him, and how happy he seemed to be around Mr Dex, even though they didn't say much to each other, and mostly seemed to want to beat each other up. It was then that she'd realised she couldn't do it.

The truth was that Mr Dex scared her a little. Not like the whine of a dart scared her, with the bone deep visceral sense of panic she thought she'd learned from Teyla, but with a sort of jumpy nervousness that just kept her on edge. He was just so tall and big. And so dangerous. She'd overheard Dr Parrish talking in the arboretum, about how he'd wiped the floor with all the marines who'd been set against him, and that he'd been rumoured to have taken out over a hundred Wraith by himself. By himself! Alise was impressed. But also a little scared.

So she avoided Mr Dex and carried on living her life, only letting the very edges of it intersect with his own. But now, there he was, sitting in her favourite spot. Alise didn't think it could be coincidence.

She sat down anyway. Atlantis was her home, and she was damned if she was going to let someone else usurp her favourite spot, whoever they were. However big they were. She'd been with the expedition from the beginning. And Ronon Dex hadn't. Defiantly, she began sipping her hot chocolate.

"Chocolate's for comfort," said Mr Dex, and Alise jumped. She looked at him over the rim of her mug, but he didn't seem to want to say anything else. Instead, he just shoved the extra pudding cup that was on his tray over to her. She eyed it warily before leaning to snatch it closer, and then squeaked – she really couldn't help herself – as Mr Dex's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"Let go!" said Alise, with a gasp, and contemplated throwing the hot drink in his eyes.

"Thought so," said Mr Dex, his rumbling voice even deeper, if that was possible, and Alise looked down. Realised he was staring at the bruises on her arms. The utter shame of it gave her enough strength to wrench her arm away. It wasn't her fault most of the kids were… meaner than she was.

There was a silence for a moment. Alise felt too stunned to do anything, too upset, too angry, to just get up and walk away. She was going to cry in a minute, and she really, _really_ didn't want to cry. So she kept swallowing stupidly, and not looking at Mr Dex.

"I could show you some moves," said Mr Dex, abruptly. "You know. If you like. There's stuff you can do. Against a stronger opponent."

She looked at him, her eyes brimming despite her best efforts, and he looked a bit panicked, as though she was going to explode or something. Then she nodded, firmly, once, instead, and he seemed to relax.

Indeed, he did better than that. He got up and stood in front of her, looming, while she composed herself. It made Alise giggle through her tears, because by the time she was all cleaned up, had finished her drink and the pudding cup, the whole of their corner of the mess hall was empty.

Who knew that having Mr Dex on her side could prove so cool?

&gt;Environment preparing for withdrawal  
&gt;Insertion terminated

***

The Young Person's Golden Treasury was never designed to teach anyone about life. When Alise discovered that, she laughed out loud.

Years later, Alise found design notes, and reviews, and the product recall that had happened not long after she was sent to live in the orphanage. The Young Person's Golden Treasury had been deemed too addictive. It had been full of… quirks. Apparently the AIs that ran the sensoriums had been known to develop personalities, characters that they got too fond of, that they would keep playing and playing in different scenarios, until… Well. Apparently they could get obsessive. It had worried some people.

The game Stargate Atlantis was another oddity. It was based on a old-time teevee show, two-dimensional and flat-screen, and one that wasn't even an original. Apparently it was 'spin-off', whatever that might mean. But it was a strange game, a strange world. It got under the skin. Before the recall, it had become really popular, and there had been a large circle of shared experiences that the AIs exchanged information on, running scenarios against one another, enriching the environment. Alise's Treasury had quietly shared and absorbed all this knowledge as soon as Alise had inserted the chip. It had been a rollercoaster of a ride for her AI too, apparently.

It seemed that her AI had got the dump all at once, because it was one of the last of its kind to remain active. That might have had an effect, Alise didn't really know.

She never told anyone about the Young Person's Golden Treasury. If she had they might have taken it away from her. But she read up on similar techniques. She kept her programming skills as up to date as possible, and she fed in all the knowledge she could. Together she and Radek and Dr McKay – Rodney – maintained everything in tip-top shape. Eventually, as it happened, they also managed to design a pair of glasses she could wear to show them her world too.

She was glad of that. Years later, after all the coaching, after the scholarships, and the prizes, and the hard work, she wanted them to see.

As she stood on the steps of MIT accepting her double first in mathematics and computer science, she wanted her real family to be the first to know.


End file.
